


A Portrait Bruised Just Like You

by smokeandjollyranchers



Category: Critical Role
Genre: Doggy Style, F/M, It's in the Before We All Burn Universe so they're def not underage, It's sad but duh it's Bren and Astrid, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, early twenties for sure, they're both pretty beat up but they aren't like torturing each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 08:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18332690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smokeandjollyranchers/pseuds/smokeandjollyranchers
Summary: She sighs, running her thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m so tired of hurting, I’m not going to deny myself the comfort. But I’m angry.”Bren catches her thumb in his teeth, running his tongue across the pad before he wraps his lips around it, and sucks. He can feel her thighs tighten around his hips, and he catches her eyes, his just as hard. He pulls off her thumb, his hands sliding up her ribs. “You think I’m not?”(Title taken from Masterpiece by Bayside-- A LOT of my fic titles have and will come from Bayside songs actually.)





	A Portrait Bruised Just Like You

It’s not often they _fail_.

In fact, Bren thinks it’s _rare_ to have them both come back, tails between their legs, whimpering and broken like some feral beasts. Not like the pride of the Empire, not like the best _Ikithon_ has to offer. Their master is past displeased, at the sight of them, broken and bleeding _failures_ , and he not so subtly lets them know there will be repercussions for this _pathetic godsdamned display_. Bren already wishes he were dead.

Ikithon wants to know who caused this, which one of them is the reason for this _spectacular_ failure, who caused this embarrassment. _Who did this_. Though he dismisses them for now, he promises them they will be paying for it later.

They’re alone, worst of their wounds _touched up_ . If withholding healing magic teaches a lesson, Ikithon is happy to teach it. Bren’s dislocated shoulder is back in its joint, however, the patchwork bruising goes untouched, a reminder of his incompetence. Astrid sits next to him, clenching and unclenching broken fists. Her middle and pinky fingers were broken after they got back, so she can’t heal them, so they _can’t cheat_. And yet, she keeps flexing them.

Tears are welling up in her eyes, one of them red and black, a barely healed reminder of a broken socket. Bren understands her rage, it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his fault, but it _is_ her fault, it _is_ his fault. Now they have nothing to do but hurt, until tomorrow, when they’ll hurt more.

He reaches for her hair, tugging as he pulls her lips against his. Astrid snarls at him, in her surprise, at the pain, at the _promise._ Bren tugs until she’s crawled into his lap, her fingers in _his_ hair, tugging him back. Their kiss breaks and her eyes are _hard,_ searching his face. “I won’t let you use me to punish yourself.”

“What if I beg you to?”

“I am not like _him_.”

“You aren’t. I _need_ what you can give me.”

“I can’t heal you.”

“I’m not asking you to.” He scoffs, his hands trailing her hips, her ass, her lower back. “I _want_ to control it. I want it done to me on _purpose_ . And you’re the _only one_ who can give that to me.”

Astrid shakes her head, just the smallest crack in her facade, her armor, her heart. “Haven’t I done enough to you?”

Bren sits up a little, holding her closer to him, his lips only a brush from hers. “If we’re going to hate ourselves for this, can we please do it together? If you send me away it’ll just hurt more.”

She sighs, running her thumb across his bottom lip. “I’m so tired of hurting, I’m not going to deny myself the comfort. But I’m _angry_.”

Bren catches her thumb in his teeth, running his tongue across the pad before he wraps his lips around it, and sucks. He can feel her thighs tighten around his hips, and he catches her eyes, his just as hard. He pulls off her thumb, his hands sliding up her ribs. “You think I’m not?”

She kisses him again, fingers in his hair. Their teeth knock together, anger giving away to hunger, and he drags blunt nails down her sides. Astrid shivers, deliberately pushing her hips down harder than she needs too. Bren breaks the kiss, his head tilting back with a choked moan. “Fuck’s sake, you want me dead?”

Finally, a small smile greets him, her hand moving to hold his jaw, her hips slow and deliberate. He digs his fingers into her hips, never taking his eyes from her. Astrid’s eyes are green, greener than the gems in their skin, or anything else he thinks he’s ever seen. It’s only her eyes when he thinks of the color now, consuming and controlling. “I wouldn’t survive you dead,” she coos, fingers on his jaw holding him tighter. “I do want you naked though.”

“I can tell by how tightly you have me pinned.” He scoffs, wrapping his good arm around her waist. “I want off the couch.”

“Then get off the couch.” She orders him, and he stands, Astrid’s legs wrapping around his waist. He forgets she’s small, with her _aura_ as big as it is, and he kisses her again, the two of them stumbling towards the nearest bed. (It’s Wulf’s, but he’s gone anyways). Bren drops Astrid on her back, body covering hers as he kisses her again. He hooks one of her legs around his hip, grinding against her _slowly_ as he works on the buttons of her tattered shirt. After a moment, he just gives up, tearing the fabric free. Astrid laughs, pushing her hips into his.

“You’re an _animal_.”

“I’m _annoyed_ .” He answers her, pulling her hair to she side so he can bite into her neck. Astrid gasps, her nails digging into his back. Bren sucks, and bites, again and again, until there’s a _darkness_ , across the left side of her neck, knowing it would go ignored tomorrow, and would be gone with the healing. “I’m so _angry,_ and fucking turned on, and _sorry-_ “

She flips them, her hands on either side of his head. Her eyes look like they might be shiny, but it’s replaced by the steel he’s come to expect from her now. “ _Don’t fucking apologize._ ”

“Astrid-“

“Don’t say my name with that _look_ on your face.” She growls, ripping his shirt off. “Don’t fucking apologize to me like I _wasn’t_ there, don’t fucking absolve me.” She crashes into him, her tongue runs along his bottom lip, and she settles herself against his leg, grinding against him. Bren moans, kissing her back, his hands running up her sides, fingers brushing her nipples. Astrid moans into his mouth, hips moving a little more deliberately. When she pulls away, he slips his index and middle finger into her mouth, watching her eyes flutter shut, feeling her tongue run up the length. She _sucks_ , and Bren can feel his cock straining against his trousers.

“Am I still allowed to call you beautiful?” He whispers, and he hears her sigh around his fingers. Astrid palms his cock roughly, and he moans, pressing down on her tongue. “Not beautiful then? You prefer handsome?”

Her teeth scrape against his finger, and he can recognize a warning when she gives it, pulling his fingers from her mouth. “Only next to you pretty boy.”

He wants to tell her something clever, but her hand disappears under his waistband and there’s _finally_ pressure against his aching cock, and he _groans_ her name. Astrid smile at him, her hand trapping his cock against his hip. “Your fingers taste like ash, by the way. How long have they been burning?”

He blinks, pulling his gaze from her to his hand, and he sees the beginnings of blackened skin at the tips. He scoffs, and Astrid pulls until his pants are down enough she can stroke him properly. He sighs meeting her gaze again. “As long as we have been, I guess.”

She looks away for a moment, and he takes his chance, flipping them again so she’s on her back once more. She groans, annoyed, but Bren only kicks his pants off the rest of the way, and then falls across her, the heel of his hand pressing against her cunt through her pants. Astrid huffs, narrowing her eyes. “You’re a fucking _tease_ , Red. I want _relief_.” 

“I want things too, _liebling_ , doesn’t mean shit.” He tells her, but he does slide his hand under her waistband, a little smug at how _wet_ she is. Astrid glares at his shitty grin, moving her hips against his hand.

“If you want to be impressive, _make me come._ ”

“If you want to be patient, _I will._ ” He tells her, finger trailing her cunt while he kisses her. Astrid shudders underneath him, her teeth catching his bottom lip, and she pulls. He _feels_ his cock jump at that, and he swears, kissing her jaw, her neck, her chest, lower, and _lower_ , until she’s panting, her fingers tangled in his hair.

“ _Bren.”_

“It’s amazing how you can say my name, and I get harder _and_ terrified.” He smiles into her skin, finally tugging her pants down. She doesn’t even breathe before he has his head between her legs, tongue running up her cunt. Astrid _swears_ , a creative line of Zemnian spilling from her lips. Her hand slips from his hair, and he moves so he’s kneeling at the foot of the bed, her legs over his shoulder.

He works her over quickly, knowing her patience is wearing thin. Besides, there’s something _addicting_ in her moans, the way her broken fingers dig into sheets, the desperation in her jawline as she chokes backs moans. Bren slides two fingers inside her, sucking on her clit as he _fucks_ her the best he can with his good arm. He can feel her thighs tremble, and he watches her bite into her palm to keep from crying out. _Gods, she would rather die than admit he was good at this._

Bren adds a third finger, and Astrid falls _apart._ Her back arches off Wulf’s bed, and she _howls_ into her palm, her legs effectively trapping him in her cunt. He’s happy to keep fucking her through the trembling in her thighs, until her foot lands on his good shoulder, pushing him away. _“Fuck you, fuck you fuck you fuck you_.”

“I can keep going.” He promises her, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before pressing kisses on her leg, paying extra attention to any of the bruises he finds. Astrid catches her shaking breath, sitting up with a pout. He wraps his arms around her waist, his lips barely grazing her pout.

She knocks her forehead to his, sighing. “I can apologize now.”

Her eyes darken, but look more _sad_ than angry, and it punches him in the gut. “ _Don’t you dare-“_

“I think it was my f-“

He slants his mouth over hers, pushing her back into the bed.  His hands find hers, and he pins them above her head, eyes dark when he looks at her. “ _Don’t._ We can’t...it was _no one’s_ fault. It was _both_ our fault. We tell him _nothing_.”

“ _It isn’t fair_ .” Her voice is rough and angry, tinged in guilt and sadness and blood. He sighs, pressing his lips to her forehead. No, it’s fucking _not,_ but they knew that, they signed up for this. It doesn’t mean it makes sense, it doesn’t mean they have to _love_ it.

“I know, _liebling,_ I fucking know.”

When she looks at him again the steel is back, and she pushes against him, and the hands pinning her down. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“We can-“

“ _Fucking now, Bren_ .” She commands him, and he sighs, kissing her soundly, tongue against hers before he rolls her over, pulling her up by her hips. He runs his tongue up her spine, the shell of her ear. His fingers dig into her hips, and she arches her back, trembling. “ _Fuck_ me.”

_Fuck him, he can’t deny her anything._

Bren moans low as he slides in her, and Astrid swears again, back arching more as she leans back towards him. He meets her, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. He releases a muffled _fuck_ into her skin, and she wiggles her hips, whining.

“You’re so needy.” He teases, resting his chin on her shoulder, biting at her ear, her neck, anything he can reach.

“I could kill you for saying that to me.” She pants, glaring at him over her shoulder. “ _Move_.”

Bren shivers at the tone in her voice, and when he finally moves it’s _relentless_ . Arousal bubbles over into rage, which bubbles over into _sorrow,_ and he rests his head against Astrid’s spine, eyes burning with unshed tears. _It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair, he wants them to sell each other out, or he’ll hurt them both and it isn’t fair._ Astrid _moans_ under him, his hips slamming into her so hard she drops to her forearms. “Y-you still okay?”

“ _Dontstop.”_ She answers, her moans getting louder, and Bren worries about any _other_ ears in this place. He leans over her, on of his arms sliding under her shoulder, his fingers back her mouth. He presses down on her tongue, and she _whimpers_.

Bren groans, trying to keep his pace steady while he holds onto her, Astrid’s whimpering distracting and _sinful_ . She reaches a hand over her shoulder, and runs her fingers through his hair, and he nearly falls apart then. “ _Touch yourself_.” He orders her, pace becoming erratic. “I’m close and I’m not coming without you.”

She tries to scoff around his fingers, but her hand leaves his hair and disappears underneath her. It’s only a few moments before she starts trembling again, and he can feel her teeth in his fingers. He drops his head to her shoulders again, biting marks onto her spine. Bren pulls his fingers from her mouth, resting his hand on the back of her head, his voice low. “ _Don’t scream_.”

Astrid doesn’t, but her teeth sink into her lip and she _moans_ , barely muffled by Bren’s body and the bed sheets. She rides her orgasm out against him, and he feels himself tipping over. He waits may a second longer than he should and he pulls away, coming on her thigh and Wulf’s blanket. Astrid snickers at that, collapsing onto the bed, her arms wrapped around herself. Bren waits until he catches his breath before he falls down next to her, their foreheads pressed together.

He stares at her, messy hair, bloody eye, broken fingers, swollen lip, and his heart swells a little. Taking her fingers in his hands, he kisses them, softly. “It was my fault.”

“Don’t-”

“It was. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“You would if you thought it was to protect me.” She narrows her eyes, studying his face. Split lip, broken brow, the different colors on his shoulder. “It was me.”

“You know, if we go in there, _adamant_ that we were each the ones who fucked up-”

“-And we believe that-”

“-And we believe that, it’s not going to spare us any pain.”

“But he won’t have an answer.”

“He won’t.” Bren smiles softly, moving so he can pull her against him. Astrid settles into his chest, tucked under his chin. “We won’t win.”

“He won’t either.”

His lips press against her forehead again, eyes closing. “That’s good enough for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> You ever see a Gif so good you get punched in the face? Yeah. So, I love Bren and Astrid and she's already my favorite NPC, and i CAN'T WAIT FOR THIS THURSDAY. GOD. THE LETTER. 
> 
> Anyways! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Youcanreplytothisthrowbacksmut


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